Category: gay poetry


I saw you in the bar,
Struttin’ stuff as though you were some star,
Muscles bulging everwhere,
Tattoos placed adroitly here and there.

You saw me all suited up in coat and tie,
Knew that you had caught my eye.
You know I know you’re quite the man.
I can’t help but admire your tan.

You, in your hot tighty-whites.
Do you know I’m hopin’ that we might?
My God, you think I’m just a fool.
Just lookin’ at you, you make me drool.

What are you gonna make me do tonight?
I’m melting in this suit too tight.
Take me in your arms and have your way.
I’ll do anything you say.

Do you want my virgin ass?
Will you fuck me on the grass?
Please don’t make me beg for more.
Please just fuck me on the floor.

Be tender when you take me deep,
Don’t laugh when you see me weep.
Penetrate my boyish charms.
I’ll be happy within your arms.


Words are unnecessary.
I only wish to sit here,
Stare into your calm eyes,
Ask you if I may kiss your lips,
Lightly, oh so lightly,
Rub your lips against my own,
My tongue darting to every part,
Mouth open to receive your lower lip.

I circle your tongue with the tip of mine,
Touch the underside and top.
You echo back the passion,
Rhythmic, stabbing, sucking….
Allowing sensations to drive emotions.
Can you tell I want you now?
I can tell that you want me.
No words are necessary.

Inevitably, we come to this—
The perfect rose of lips,
Touch of hands on naked hips….
Bliss enhanced with hunger,
Door of the heart wide open,
How could I not be enthralled with you?
I am resting in such awe of you….

Unbelievable, the way you let me in,
Ultimate ecstasy in this open space
Continuous for a moment or a thousand years,
Longing, seduction, revelation, love,
Presence gathered, floating upward,
Blushing through milky spinal cord
Toward heaven’s ocean blue—
Only here.  Only me and you.

He was waiting for me,
Blue plaid shirt matching blue striped sheets,
Newly laundered and stretched tight.
His blue briefs were stretched tight, too,
High upon his muscled thighs.
Did I mention the blue within his eyes?

This man is all primed for my arrival,
Hungry look within his eyes,
Preparations made as though
This room and body are his seductive temple—
He the high priest upon the altar of the bed,
Ready to be sacrificed
All in the name of tonight’s desire.

I want to drink his wine,
Eat his bread upon the bed,
Spend the coming hours of night
Preying upon my knees,
Enshrine his golden calves upon my shoulders.

His sweet kisses are divine.
As sun sets and sky turns dark blue,
We light candles around the room,
Offer incense to the full moon
Right before my face,
Staring with unblinking eye….
I slowly finger his holy flesh
As deep as finger goes.

His body jerks, his moaning grows,
Words of pleading, wanting more….
I tease him to the core
Until my own desire has overpowered
Any will to prolong the time,
Inevitable this play whose final act
Already known….  Bravo!
Act One.  Intermission.  Act Two.

Though there is no applause,
The audience is pleased,
Demands an encore,
Standing on the floor, arms lifted,
Voices loud and urgent….
More, more, more….

 He lay there, naked on the old leather couch,
Nipples erect, waiting, poised, seductive….
Knowing his power, knowing he had me
Firmly within his grasp, wanting me to want him.

And it worked.  I did want him….
Wanted to take him, make him mine,
Ravish his body and soul until I penetrated to his core,
Heard his cry, answered his prayer to be touched,
Possessed, known deeper than anyone
Had ever possessed or plundered him before.

He might not say he was waiting to be loved….
It would make him too vulnerable to use those words,
But I had no doubt that’s what he wanted,
Something steady, something real—
Someone that would open him to his deeper need,
Open his heart without making him bleed.

He was in so many ways still a young boy,
Lying there naked on that old sheepskin rug….
And he makes me feel more and more a man
Than any boy has ever made me feel before.
How could I resist lying down beside him,
Moving on top of him….. kissing him deeply
As he opened his lips, his thighs, his heart to me.

His muscled arms encircled me, held me tight,
Squeezed until I gave him what he sought….
Took him, rode him, legs upon my shoulders,
His deepest parts opening, drawing me inside,
Asking, praying, needing new life to fill him,
Drench him, tenderly implant new seed
That would forever be one in flesh.

On Holy Ground

What is it about seeing flesh fresh?
The first time lips are parted,
The exploration of hands, fingers, nape of neck,
Eloquence of ears, the physicality of it,
The surge of energy as I remove his belt,
Slowly unbutton his shirt,
Each button a form of

Resistance to be undone—
The revelation of first one
Then a second nipple,
His musk emerging along with hardness,
Memorized so I can practice in my head
For years to come, this excited joy,
This first time of sacred acquaintance,
Alive, moving to an encounter
With the divine.

Why are the eyes of a stranger
The holy testament
Where incarnation feels so
Pure, delight so clean,
So untainted by known qualities?
Why does the sense of
Intimacy with a virgin, naked man
I do not know feel so alluring?

And then I know.  It is the Mystery.
The magnificent mystery of Holy Other,
Found in human form, as yet unknown,
In some ways forever unknown,
Unknowable in hidden depth,
Yet this awareness
Dies with familiarity.  I lose
The experience of his very Being
As I create assumptions that I know him,
Build tensions that are, in essence,
Illusions that hide his magnificence
So clear in the freshness of this Now.
We come to each other as virgins.
I strip myself of pretense, protection,
Obligation, defense and prosecution
So that I touch him unencumbered, free,
Impulsive with laughter, my perspective
Slanted by his prowess, compelling
Eyes to look inside each soul.

I sense this ground so Holy
That I remove my shoes, walk lightly
Into his embrace, driven as if by some
Genetic code, some rhythm
So insatiable, so common, so real
It provides new definition to Reality–
Bare feet dancing,
Delirious and quivering as he kneels,
Worships at the shrine erected just for him,
Moisture rising as he laps, pinkly,
Face turned upward, dreaming
Submission, deliverance, transcendence,
All rolled into one unhurried Passion,
Merciful and slow, setting fire
To the loveable and those seeking
To be lost.

Cello Boy

He sat there with legs spread,
Knees caressing his instrument,
Right arm around the neck,
Intense eyes directed straight at me
As he took my photo with his cell.

I stood there, captured….
Confident that if I held the
Wood between his thighs,
Ran my fingers across his G string,
Music would reverberate, resound, abound,
Echo delicate touch upon nape of neck,
Touch the nuts and twist the pegs
Until his instrument was finely tuned.

Size was not too large; not too small.
Perfect for what I had in mind,
Rubbed the hard and shiny wood,
Squeeze the waist as we make music,
Polished as the gazing, amazing,
Brazen look upon his face.

I lay there after making love, spent,
Eyes wide open, hearing music
Though the room was quiet.
I don’t know where the noise went,
But the symphony was still there,
Musicians whispering in the pit,
The conductor taking his bow
With unblemished, smoldering pride,
Thinking of the glide, the ease
When bodies choose to please,
To pleasure by touch, by feeling
Yearning in the trees, the limbs,
The undergrowth,
Glow of fireflies in the still
Meadows of the skin,
Flow of water into empty spaces,
Moving into now that has never been.

 After work, I headed home
And there he was,
At the end of the hall,
Naked as a jaybird but for the cross around his neck.
He’d moved in a few weeks before.
Now here he was, making his move.

Sure, we’d flirted out on the street.
But I hadn’t expected he’d be this sweet,
Covering himself, but he surely wasn’t small.
Muscles ripped and real dark eyes,
Silver cross and a killer smile.

What could I do but unlock my door,
He took my key in his hands as we lay on the floor.
We smoked a joint and got ready for more.
He swallowed my cock and licked my balls;
Between my legs, he looked pretty tall.

I knew what he wanted and I gave it all.
He grabbed my ass and took it to the wall.
He thrust inside and fucked like a champ.
It didn’t take long till our bodies were damp.
He stayed all night and  never used the lamp.


I went into the steam room,
Shut the door, thinking I was alone.
Only then did I see what appeared
To be a ghost, four feet away,
Fading in and out of silvery world.

He was lying opposite me,
Stretched out upon the bench,
Totally naked as I watched
The way he stared into my hungry eyes.
I stood up to see if he was real,
Lost my towel as it disappeared
Into the fog and that was the end of that.

Suddenly this hand reached
Through the steam.
Touched my thigh.
Oh, God, I wished I had
A glass of wine, taste upon my tongue
Crammed with secrets, long legs
Running down the glass, my ass
Backed against the wall,
Cold tile condensed.

Here, as though in answer to a prayer,
The ghost became the real thing.
I heard a rushing sound….
Maybe it was the steam,
Heat rising in the room,
No words exchanged….

If I loved him,
I wouldn’t have given in.
But I didn’t know his name.
I only felt this ache,
As if I lived within his heat,
His spreading of my thighs and feet,
His weight coming slow.

Was it cigarette smoke or steam?
I couldn’t tell when my eyes were closed,
His tongue shockingly down there,
Tingling, probing, licking, biting.
His naked body all wet against my own.

Was it sweat running down my cheeks?
Tears as I cried out upon his entry,
Hard but excruciatingly sweet?
He had me where I wanted me—
Now you know the dark story.
Spinning like a falling coin,
I fell both heads and tails,
Landed yielding, trembling, begging.

God, he was big.
And he went deep.
Never, never, never enough….
This lovely, senseless act,
This momentary kiss, this fulfillment of a wish,
This breaking open of my body’s heart,
This need, this shame.
I never knew his name.

My Blond Boy

He was waiting for me when I got home.
Laying on the couch
Almost naked— his white skin hot to touch,
Dark nipples round as sun,
Melting any resistance of my own.
He held his power within his eyes,
Hard abs, muscled arms above his head,
Trail of hair disappearing down his shorts.

He knew he had me from the start,
Knew I would submit to every whim….
Pulled down his shorts with teeth,
Licked his feet, kissed my way north,
Lips walking up his hairy legs,
Strong thighs on either side,
Hard rod brushed my face…
I had no will but his,
Heat rising as he told me what to do.

What is it about a blond boy
That makes red blood begin to boil?
Just one look of his ruddy lips,
Crawled upon the sheets as he took my head,
Forced me upon his hard rock,
Swallow gorgeous cock,
Blond bush scented with sweet musk.

With a glance of blue eyes,
He implored me to applaud his size,
The uplift of his blade mesmerized,
Lured me deeper into desire,
Temperature overheating as
With his hand he turned me face to face,
Planting his tongue within its place.

He must have used some drug on me,
Made me weak as he
Maneuvered me upon my back,
Caught within his grasp,
Legs upon his shoulders…
My head was spinning as
His penetrating thrust pierced
Deep into my strongest need until
I blossomed as a bud to flower
Opens under blazing heat of sun.

My only desire to give him everything he wanted…
Lead me, use me, breed me, pour his seed,
Cum so deep into my darkest need,
Our two souls joined as one.

Afterward, I could only half-whisper his name,
As though he were young god,
Caressing me still in dreams,
Finding in his remembered flesh a triumph
Flashing bare with beauty,
His naked body breathing
Deepest passion I’ve ever known.

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